


Washing Away The Pain

by demolitionbucky



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:19:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demolitionbucky/pseuds/demolitionbucky
Summary: When Bill opened the door to Stanley’s bathroom, Bill felt himself slip a bit. He gripped on the doorframe to steady himself before walking to Stanley’s side, wrapping an arm around the trembling boy’s shoulders. “Wha-what’s wrong? What ha-happened?” he asked, running his hand up and down Stanley’s back gently, pressing close to place a kiss on Stanley’s head.





	Washing Away The Pain

**Author's Note:**

> ***RATED MATURE FOR HEAVY EMOTIONAL CONTENT.***  
> *TRIGGERS: OCD, self-harm, thoughts of suicide*  
> // a story of Stan's struggle connected to my own struggles //
> 
> You're not alone. Reach out to someone if you're hurting:  
> 1-800-273-TALK

“Washing away the pain, washing away the pain, washing away the pain, washing away the pain…” Stanley whispered under his breath, rubbing his hands against each other forcefully, soap lathering on his hands. Scalding hot water poured over his hands. He heard the creak of someone’s feet in the hallway next to his bedroom. “It'll be okay, it'll be okay, it'll be okay…” he repeated, closing his eyes tight as he continued pressing and pressing his hands against each other. The white soap became tainted with incarnadine as hot water stung his skin.

“Get off, please, get off, get off, get off, get. OFF!” Stanley chocked, trembling as he pressed himself against his sink. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he stared down at the incarnadine mess held in his hands. Shakily, he reached forward to turn the water to cold, holding his hands under the faucet, watching as the mess faded away and down the drain.

“Stuh-Stanley? It’s Bill. Remember that we’re hanging out?” Bill asked, setting down a backpack on Stanley’s quilted bed. Silence followed by a sniffle. Bill’s heart dropped.

When Bill opened the door to Stanley’s bathroom, Bill felt himself slip a bit. He gripped on the doorframe to steady himself before walking to Stanley’s side, wrapping an arm around the trembling boy’s shoulders. “Wha-what’s wrong? What ha-happened?” he asked, running his hand up and down Stanley’s back gently, pressing close to place a kiss on Stanley’s head.

“I can't get this pain out of my head, Bill, I can't,” Stanley began, voice wavering as he stared down at his incarnadine-stained hands that stung in the air. The water faucet was off now. Stanley fell silent, tears spilling down his cheeks again. All he could hear was his own heartbeat and the thoughts creeping and creeping and persisting in his head.

“I-I've buh-been there, too, Stan,” Bill began, gently wrapping his arm around Stanley’s waist, bringing him close to him. Familiar to Bill’s touch, Stanley turned towards Bill, resting his wet face against his flannel-covered chest. “In no wah-way is it easy… these bad thoughts we sha-share… these bad memories…”

Stanley nodded his head, tears continuing to run down his face and onto Bill’s chest. “It doesn't work anymore, Bill, it doesn't,” he whispered, trembling against Bill.

Bill wrapped his arms around Stanley in a tight embrace, pressing his chest against him. He shut his eyes and held his friend tight, not wanting him to slip away from his reach. “It's okay, Stuh-Stan,” he began. “I also st-st-struggle with believing in s-someone greater than us, t-too.”

Trembling, Stanley, pulled away from Bill, running his hands through his hair. “The only thing that seems to work is to make myself feel something, even if it's what is already hurting me,” he muttered, his hands beginning to shake.

Bill reached forward, holding Stanley’s shaking hands in his own, looking at him with concerned eyes. “Wha-what matters most is th-that you're here. Any… th-thing that's on your skin is a r-reminder… th-that… that you've surviving,” he began, lowering his head as he felt a rush of pain through his chest. 

“Bill, please, don't,” Stanley murmured, leaning forward to wrap his arms rightly around his friend. “Don't cry, don't cry, i-it’s okay… it's okay…” he said, feeling the truth escape him as he said so. He felt a part of himself crumble as he held Bill.  
Bill, tears spilling down his own cheeks now, instinctively nuzzled the crook of Stanley’s neck, feeling his own body tremble. “Come on, l-let’s g-go on your bed, yeah?”

Bill led Stanley to his bed and faced him. He placed a hand on Stanley’s chest, closing his eyes as he listened to him breathe. 

Stanley watched Bill, a weak smile peeking at the corner of his lips. “Bill, I…” he began, reaching forward to run his fingers through Bill’s dark auburn hair. “I…” he repeated, biting his lip, tears spilling. “I can't keep living like this… with these thoughts in my mind.”

Bill pressed closer to Stanley, wrapping his arms around him, opening his eyes to look up at him. “Stuh-Stanley… wha-what we went through ha-has si-similarities and differences… but… I'm a-always going to be here fh-for you. A-all of us are luh-lucky to have you, and no matter wha-what thoughts c-cross your mind, I'm gh-going to be… be by your side. I d-don’t want you hu-hurting.”

Stanley felt another part of him crumble as Bill spoke to him. He reached forward and cupped Bill’s face in his stinging hands, looking at him. “I love you, Bill. I love you. I love you. So much,” he said, tears brimming in his eyes.

Bill leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, nuzzling Stanley softly. “I luh-love you more th-than anything. You're wha-what keeps me going, Stuh-Stan.”


End file.
